ENVIRONMENTAL & ARCHITECTURAL PHENOMENOLOGY (spring 2015)

Environmental &

Architectural

Phenomenology

Vol. 26 ▪ No. 2 ISSN 1083–9194 www.arch.ksu.edu/seamon/EAP.html Spring ▪ 2015

his EAP includes “citations re-

ceived” and a “book note” on arche-

ologist Christopher Tilley’s Inter-

preting Landscapes, the third volume in

his series, “Explorations in Landscape

Phenomenology.” We also include infor-

mation on the annual conference of the In-

ternational Association for Environ-

mental Philosophy (IAEP) to be held this

October in Atlanta. The conference will in-

clude a panel discussion on “Twenty-Five

Years of Environmental and Architectural

Phenomenology,” organized by philoso-

pher and IAEP Co-Director Steven Vogel.

We hope to have more information about

this event in the fall 2015 issue.

Also included in this EAP issue are two

feature essays, the first by philosopher and

place researcher Giorgi Tavadze, who

presents two examples of the “gathering

power of place.” His first example is the

restoration of the Poti Cathedral, a Geor-

gian Orthodox church in the Georgian port

city of Poti, located on the Black Sea’s

eastern coast. His second example involves

field research that he conducted in

Khevsureti, a mountainous region

in northern Georgia. He describes

the seasonal routine of grass cut-

ters of that region and their com-

munal approach to bridge build-

ing.

The second essay, by designer

Malte Wagenfeld, introduces a

“phenomenology of air.” An inte-

gral part of any architectural phe-

nomenology is lived accounts of

various modes of “materiality,” in-

cluding fluids and atmospheres.

Wagenfeld makes use of devices

such as foggers and lasers to make

visible the invisible atmospheric

patterns of air. “How,” asks

Wagenfeld, “does a designer use

visualization to conceptualize an

intangible atmospheric medium such as

air? How do we conjure a vivid inner im-

agery to formulate conceptual models that

capture the dimensional complexity and

temporal capriciousness of atmosphere?”

His essay describes several intriguing dis-

coveries in relation to these questions.

Creativity & Human Science The current issue of the Danish peer-re-

viewed, on-line Academic Quarter [Akad-

emisk Kvarter] focuses on “Creativity in

Human Science Research.” This special is-

sue includes several articles that were orig-

inally presentations at the 2013 Interna-

tional Human Science Research Confer-

ence (IHSRC), held at the University of

Aalborg in northern Denmark. Articles in-

clude: “Creativity as Opening toward New

Beginnings” (S. Halling and F. T. Han-

sen); “How do Artists Learn and What Can

Educators Learn From Them?” (T. Chemi

and J. Borup Jensen): “Creativity in Phe-

nomenological Methodology” (P. Dreyer,

B. Martinsen, A. Norlyk and A. Haahr);

“Finding Oneself Lost in Enquiry” (M.

Mandić); “Considering Collaborative Cre-

ativity” (T. Jensen); “Creativity in Ethno-

graphic Interviews” (L. Teglhus Kauff-

mann); “Looking at a Photograph—André

Kertész’s 1928 Meudon: Interpreting Aes-

thetic Experience Phenomenologically”

(D. Seamon); “Narratives and Communi-

cation in Health Care Practice” (M. B.

Sørensen); “Transformative Wonder. An

Ex-Con Talking about Heidegger to a

Class of Graduate Students” (M. Nosek, E.

Marlow, E. Young and Y. Lee); and “The

Sublime In Nursing Practice” (E. Goble

and B. Cameron). www.akademi-

skkvarter.hum.aau.dk/UK/allissues.php.

Below: Video stills of two strikingly similar

vortex formations, appearing about one-

and-one-half minutes apart. The video was

shot by Malte Wagenfeld in New York City

in 2008 and illustrates “the propensity of a

self-organizing system to generate aperi-

odic patterns.” See Wagenfeld’s essay,

“The Phenomenology of Visualizing At-

mosphere,” p. 9.

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2

The 19th annual meeting of the Interna-

tional Association for Environmental

Philosophy (IAEP) will be held October

11–12, 2015, in Atlanta. The conference

follows the annual meetings of the Society

for Existential and Phenomenological

Philosophy (SPEP); and the Society for

Phenomenology and the Human Sci-

ences (SPHS). http://environmentalphiloso-

phy.org/; www.spep.org/; http://sphs.info/.

Geography of the Lifeworld

reprinted EAP editor David Seamon’s A Geography

of the Lifeworld: Movement, Rest, and En-

counter has been reprinted in Routledge

Press’s “Revival” series. Originally re-

leased in 1979 by the London publisher

Croom Helm, the book presents a phenom-

enological examination of everyday envi-

ronmental experience—“the sum total of a

person’s firsthand involvements with the

geographical world in which he or she typ-

ically lives.” Seamon describes a common

lived core of everyday environmental ex-

perience via the three overarching themes

of movement, rest, and encounter. His in-

troduction to the Routledge reprint is avail-

able at: www.taylorandfrancis.com/refer-

ence/blog/category/routledge_revivals/.

Citations Received Julio Bermudez, ed., 2015. Trans-cending Architecture: Contempo-rary Views on Sacred Space. Wash-ington DC: CUA Press.

The 18 chapters of this edited collection

examine “the mysterious, profound, and

real power of designed environments to ad-

dress the spiritual dimension of our hu-

manity.” Contributors include: Thomas

Barrie (“The Domestic and the Numinous

in Sacred Architecture”); Julio Bermudez

(“Le Corbusier at the Parthenon”);

Karsten Harries (“Transcending Aesthet-

ics”) Lindsay Jones (“Architectural Cata-

lysts to Contemplation”); and Juhani Pal-

lasmaa (“Light, Silence, and Spirituality

in Architecture and Art”).

Janet Donohoe, 2014. Remembering Places: A Phenomenological Study of the Relationship between Memory and Place. NY: Lexington Books.

Focusing largely on the lived dimensions

of monuments and memorials, this philos-

opher draws on phenomenological and

hermeneutic perspectives to explore the

complex relationship between place,

memory, and history. The emphasis is on

how “deliberate places of collective

memory can be ideological, or can open us

to the past and different traditions.”

Wilfred M. McClay and Ted V. McAl-lister, eds., 2014. Why Place Mat-ters. NY: New Atlantis Books.

“Contemporary American society, with its

emphasis on mobility and economic pro-

gress, all too often loses sight of the im-

portance of a sense of ‘place’ and commu-

nity. Appreciating place is essential for

building the strong local communities that

cultivate civic engagement, public leader-

ship, and many of the other goods that con-

tribute to a flourishing human life. This an-

thology brings together an array of distin-

guished scholars—historians, philoso-

phers, geographers, urban planners, and

others—to explore the problems of place

and placelessness in American society.”

The 17 authors include: Philip Bess (“Met-

aphysical Realism, Modernity, and Tradi-

tional Cultures of Building”); Russell

Jacoby (“Cosmopolitanism and Place”);

Witold Rybczynski (“The Demand Side

of Urbanism”); Roger Sruton (“A Plea for

Beauty: A Manifesto”); and Yi-Fu Tuan

(“Place/Space, Ethnicity/Cosmos”).

Jeff Malpas, 2012. Putting Space in Place: Philosophical Topology and Relational Geography. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, vol. 30, pp. 226–42.

Offering a penetrating critique of the “rela-

tionalist” approach to space that currently

dominates geographical and architectural

thinking, this philosopher of place “ex-

plores the concept of space as it stands in

connection with time and place, making

particular use of the notions of bounded-

ness, extendedness, and emergence while

also shedding light on the idea of relation-

ality.” Includes some useful “deconstruc-

tion” of some of the most prominent “rela-

tionalist” thinkers today, including Doreen

Massey, Ash Amin, Nigel Thrift, and,

more peripherally, David Harvey. See

sidebar, below.

Place as only relational …[Doreen Massey’s] own view of

space and spatiality can be taken as

representative of… what is now the

dominant view of space and spatiality

within geography and many related

disciplines—a view of space and spati-

ality as essentially relational.

Moreover, far from contributing to a

clearer analysis of space, this relational

conception has itself contributed to a

further proliferation of spatial tropes

and figures that often serve further to

obscure the concepts at issue. Thus,

within much contemporary literature,

in geography and beyond, space ap-

pears as a swirl of flows, networks, and

trajectories, as a chaotic ordering that

locates and dislocates, and as an effect

of social process that is itself spatially

dispersed and distributed….

On the face of it, Massey retains a

commitment to the concept of place in

her work…. The way place actually

appears, however, is almost entirely in

terms of a “meeting” of relational

flows or trajectories or as “articulated

moments in networks of social rela-

tions and understandings….”

The images and ideas that can be

seen to be at work here… demonstrate

the persistent influence (sometimes

contrary to Massey’s own claims) of a

certain form of diagrammatic, or even

cartographic, envisioning of relational

organization and configuration. Rela-

tions are themselves understood as like

lines drawn on a surface….

It is one thing to emphasize the char-

acter of places as always intercon-

nected with other places (such inter-

connection, evident in both the embed-

dedness of places in other places as

well as the implication of places with

other places through their mutual locat-

edness), but it is quite another thing to

treat places as primarily points of lin-

ear intersection or relational conver-

gence.

IAEP Conference, Atlanta

3

In this respect, Massey’s attempt to

preserve a sense of place actually de-

pends not on the defense of a sui gene-

ris concept of place but on the collaps-

ing of the distinction between place

and space: place becomes simply a mo-

ment (a meeting point) in space—a

moment constituted through spatial

flow and movement (Malpas, p. 228 &

p. 229).

Annelise Norlyk, Bente Martinsen, and Karin Dahlberg, 2013. Getting to Know Patients’ Lived Space, Indo-Pacific Journal of Phenomenology, vol. 13, no. 2 (Oct.), pp. 1–12.

These professors of nursing science con-

sider “patients’ experience of lived space

at the hospital and at home” and demon-

strate that “the hospital space means alien

territory as opposed to the familiar territory

of home.” In regard to the latter, the au-

thors explain that “the combination of ill-

ness and general discomfort may influence

patients’ experience of home negatively;

the former experience of home as a sanctu-

ary changes into feelings of being left on

one’s own and burdened by too much re-

sponsibility.”

Robert B. Olshansky and Larure A. Johnson, 2010. Clear as Mud: Plan-ning for the Rebuilding of New Orle-ans. Washington, DC: Planners Press.

Based on interviews with many of the par-

ties involved, this study describes the pro-

cess whereby the Unified New Orleans

Plan was designed and carried out in the

four years following the devastating 2005

Hurricane Katrina. Some key questions

helpfully addressed: “How does one or-

ganize and finance the rebuilding of a city

in the accelerated time frames expected by

its public officials and citizens? What

should a planner, local or state governmen-

tal official, or involved citizen do when

faced with such circumstances? To what

extent can planning politics and strategies

help to facilitate a successful recovery?

How important are government-led plan-

ning efforts, as opposed to self-organized

efforts by neighborhood organizations or

nonprofits?” A useful contribution to an

area of study that might be called a “phe-

nomenology of place recovery.”

Julie M. Raimondi, 2012. Space, Place, and Music in New Orleans. Doctoral dissertation. Univ. of Cali-fornia, Los Angeles: Dept. of Ethno-musicology.

This dissertation explores ways in which

many people in New Orleans use, experi-

ence, form emotional attachments to, and

make sense of space through music. The

author argues that music enables people to

socially construct space because it ac-

cesses the nexus of memory and emotion,

operates in a greater cultural context, and

is a useful tool for variable expression. The

research draws on four case studies: place

attachment through the “second line” pa-

rading tradition and North Claiborne Ave-

nue; the fixing of memories in space at the

Ernie K-Doe Mother-in-Law Lounge; the

negotiation of public space through musi-

cal performances in various contexts; and

the creation and growth of a music com-

munity in the New Orleans Habitat Musi-

cians’ Village.

Scott Timberg, 2015. Culture Crash: The Killing of the Creative Class. New Haven, CT: Yale Univ. Press.

This journalist examines the current disin-

tegration of the American creative class—

all persons who create, help create, or dis-

seminate culture. These individuals in-

clude not only artists, architects, compos-

ers, choreographers, playwrights, and so

forth, but also journalists, deejays, musi-

cians, librarians, book editors, bookstore

clerks—in short, “those who deal with

ideas, culture, and creativity at street

level.”

Chapter by chapter, Timberg considers

the various causes of this “culture crash”—

social shifts, technological change, eco-

nomic recession, digital piracy, the erosion

of place-grounded entrepreneurship, and

the destruction of “middlebrow consen-

sus”—the sense of “a shared body of artis-

tic and intellectual touchstones that edu-

cated middle-class people should know

about, that ‘serious’ fare was somehow

good for you, and that these works were to

be passed down through education, jour-

nalistic coverage, and family rituals.”

The sidebar, right, includes passages

from Timberg’s chapter, “Disappearing

Clerks and the Lost Sense of Place.”

Everything around subtly

changed The loss of the people who labor to put

books and music and movies into our

hands is bad enough, but their depar-

ture doesn’t just cut into the number of

people who can make a living from

working in culture.

Every time a shop selling books or

records, or renting movies, closes, we

lose the kinds of gathering places that

allow people oriented to culture to

meet and connect; we lose our context,

and the urban fabric frays.

Americans have long worried about

big cities and the endemic poverty that

seemed to take root in them. These

days, plenty of cities—Detroit, Balti-

more…—remain devastated. But it’s

excessive wealth, not poverty, that’s

making some cities unlivable. Culture

merchants close their doors for a mix-

ture of reasons, but next to disruptive

technology, it’s skyrocketing rents that

are pushing these places out.

The most recent economic recession

has led to tenacious unemployment and

a severe wounding of the American

middle class—median family has re-

covered only 45 percent of the wealth

it lost since 2007…. But even in the

face of these hard times, real estate

prices are rising and in some cases

spiking. The stock market surge, rec-

ord corporate profits, and a plutocrat

class thriving in an age of tax cuts and

offshoring mean that the very rich can

move into cities and force others out.

In New York City, the prices of lux-

ury condos from uptown to downtown

are pushing the creative class deeper

into Brooklyn and Queens. Even outly-

ing Hoboken, New Jersey, has seen its

creative class pushed out by junior

bankers who can pay $4,200 a month

for a one-bedroom condo. The indie-

rock club Maxwell’s, a longtime water-

ing hole for musicians and writers

there, closed in 2013.

In the Bay Area, real estate prices

have begun to wage the economic

equivalent of ethnic cleansing on the

middle class. Rents in San Francisco

increased by about 30 percent between

June 2011 and two years later, with an

accompanying surge in evictions. Cit-

ies such as Oakland, Denver, Miami,

4

and Boston have seen annual increases

above 10 percent since the recession.

For objects with fixed prices—books

and CDs, for instance—such enormous

increases in overhead are hard for a

small retailer, no matter how diligent

or innovative, to keep pace with. And

this sort of climb makes it nearly im-

possible for writers and musicians—

not to mention bookstore workers—

without trust funds to live in the kind

of urban setting that allows for a criti-

cal mass and cultural friction.

There’s an extensive literature about

what makes neighborhoods function,

including much by the New Urbanists,

with Jane Jacobs as the most eloquent

of the city’s mid-century chroni-

clers…. Jacobs argued… in favor of

small shops that encourage pedestrian

traffic and serendipity, along with

mixed-use districts and buildings that

can be accessed at street level—all

things fostered by an interplay of inde-

pendent culture merchants with other

sorts of places….

“Remove one record shop from a

neighborhood, and it’s not just records

or personal history or memories and

friends that are knocked out (you can

find all those elsewhere); it’s every-

thing around it that is subtly changed”

(pp. 64–65 & p. 69).

Book Note

Christopher Tilley, 2010. Interpreting Landscapes: Geologies, Topographies, Identities. Ex-plorations in Landscape Phenomenology 3. Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press.

his is the third volume in archeolo-

gist Christopher Tilley’s “Explora-

tions in Landscape Phenomenol-

ogy,” a remarkable series of first-person

phenomenological efforts to interpret the

lived nature of natural place via geological,

topographic, and environmental phenom-

ena like springs, beaches, prominent hills,

escarpment edges, ridges and spurs, bogs

and marshy areas, and so forth.

The seven real-world sites that Tilley

explores are all in southwestern England

and include the three contrasting chalk

landscapes of the area around Stonehenge;

the northern edge of Cranborne Chase; and

the South Dorset Ridgeway.

Tilley’s work has consistently demon-

strated the interpretive value of careful,

prolonged firsthand encounter and engage-

ment with landscapes and natural places. In

relation to the archeological and historical

value of his studies, Tilley writes:

How closely connected were different com-

munities in the Neolithic and Bronze Age?

How localized were their worlds? The var-

ious studies in this book suggest that there

was a very strong relationship among

monuments, places, and landscapes, that

individual and social identities were con-

structed in place, by the people of that

place, who belonged to that place and

landscape. The relationship was intimate

and enduring (p. 469).

To give readers a sense of the author’s

perceptive vision, we reproduce, in the

sidebars below, passages from the book’s

first and last chapters.

Materiality of Landscape Landscapes have a profound effect on

our thoughts and interpretations be-

cause of the manner in which they are

perceived and sensed through our bod-

ies. We cannot, therefore, either repre-

sent or understand them in any way we

might like. This approach stresses the

materiality of landscapes: landscapes

as real and physical rather than as

simply cognized or imagined or repre-

sented. The physicality of landscapes

acts as a ground for all thought and so-

cial interaction. It profoundly affects

the way we think, feel, move, and act.

The phenomenologist is a figure im-

mersed within the ground of landscape.

Landscape is fundamental for human

existence because it provides both a

medium for and an outcome of individ-

ual and social practices. The physical-

ity of landscapes grounds and orien-

tates people and places within them; it

is a physical and sensory resource for

living and the social and symbolic con-

struction of lifeworlds.

A phenomenological study takes

time…. [T]he longer one experiences a

landscape the more that will be under-

stood—first of all, because only famili-

arity can produce a structure of feeling

for the landscape that a phenomenolog-

ical account attempts to evoke.

Second, landscapes, unlike their rep-

resentations, are constituted in space-

time. They are always changing, in the

process of being and becoming, never

exactly the same twice over. Places al-

ter according to natural rhythms such

as the progression of seasons, time of

day, qualities of light and shade, and so

on. The weather, for which an entire

archeology might be developed, is a

fundamental medium surrounding and

affecting both people and their land-

scapes….

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5

Temporality is thus at the heart of a

phenomenological study, in which we

must learn how to see and how to ex-

perience and try to learn about the ex-

perience of others (Tilley, p. 26).

Imagining via the body In carrying out the fieldwork for this

book, I was struck by the manner in

which the landscape itself changes so

radically within a short walking dis-

tance.

In relation to the Pebblebed land-

scape of East Devon…., I walk from

where I dwell toward the east, crossing

the river Otter, climb up the East Hill

Ridge, and pass over its flat top. I leave

the smooth multi-colored pebbles be-

hind, walk over red sandstone, which I

can see exposed in the river cliffs, en-

counter brittle grey and yellow chert

and small cairns made of the same ma-

terial.

I descend to the valley below. My

journey takes several hours. The topog-

raphy is now totally different. Ahead is

a ridge very different from the ridge

that I have just passed over. The aspect

of the East Hill ridge seen from the

east is a ragged affair, broken up by

numerous valleys and spurs. Seen from

the west, the line is smooth, continuous

and unbroken.

I have entered a very different sensu-

ous and experiential world. I feel lost

and uneasy in this landscape that I

have not walked or studied. My rela-

tionship with the earth and the sky has

changed; all the landmarks and water

course that were familiar to me have

gone, my knowledge has vanished.

In order to dwell here, rather than

over there, I need to find myself again,

establish a new embodied relationship

with place, establish a new kind of

identity with the land. I have main-

tained throughout the book that some-

thing of value can also be inferred

from this kind of view of the people of

the past, an imagining taking place

through the medium of the body rather

than through a text (Tilley, p. 470).

Stages of phenomenologi-

cal research 1. Familiarizing oneself with the land-

scape through walking within and

around it, developing a feeling for it,

and opening up oneself to it.

2. Visiting known places of prehistoric

significance and recording the sensory

affordances and contrasts they provide.

This requires writing and then visually

recording, through still or video pho-

tography, these experiences in the

place, creating a written and visual text

(rather than a series of abbreviated

notes) because the very process of

writing is a primary aid and stimulus to

perception.

3. Revisiting the same places during

different seasons or times of the day as

far as is possible, experiencing them in

and through the weather.

4. Approaching these places from dif-

ferent directions and recording the

manner in which their character alters

as a result.

5. Following paths of movement

through the landscape and recording

the manner in which this activity may

change the manner in which places

within it are perceived in relation to

one another. Paths of movement will

usually be suggested by features of the

landscape itself, for example, follow-

ing the lines of ridges or the course of

valleys or prehistoric moments within

it—for instance, walking along the line

of a stone row, a Cursus Monument, a

cross-ridge dyke, a Roman road, or

between nearby groups of barrows or

settlements.

6. Visiting and exploring and record-

ing ‘natural’ places within the land-

scape for which there is little or no ar-

chaeological evidence of human activ-

ity.

7. Drawing together all these observa-

tions and experiences in the form of a

synthetic text and imaginatively inter-

preting them in terms of possible pre-

historic lifeworlds: how people in the

past made sense of, lived in, and un-

derstood their landscapes (Tilley, pp.

30–31).

Cherishing the land Phenomenological approaches attempt

to explore landscapes on the basis of

the full depth of their human sensory

experience. The process of dwelling in

these landscapes and developing an un-

derstanding of them is not a value-free

exercise. It is part of a radical politics

whose imperative is to teach us to re-

spect and to value, love, and cherish

the land on which we dwell and the

planet on which we live—and to chal-

lenge capitalist values in which every-

thing and its worth becomes measured

in terms of money, as well as the “ra-

tionalist” and calculating logic associ-

ated with such an evaluation.

[This perspective] encourages

thought about these landscapes that

may allow us to emotionally re-con-

nect with them, through an alternative

poetic and metaphoric logic, rather

than to destroy them. It is to further de-

velop an understanding that, if we de-

stroy these landscapes, we destroy not

only our past but also our present and

our future.

To be a good phenomenologist is to

try both to think through and to de-

velop an intimacy of contact with the

landscape akin to that between lovers.

In so doing, we may develop not only a

better understanding of our present-

past but also of ourselves and our rela-

tionship to others (Tilley, p. 490).

6

Place as Gathering: Building, Care, and Dwelling Giorgi Tavadze

Tavadze, PhD, is Lecturer, Senior Researcher, and Deputy Director of the Institute of Philosophy and Social Sciences at Grigol

Robakidze University, Tbilisi, Georgia. His main research areas include philosophical geography, political sociology, social the-

ory, the sociology of places and spaces, and the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche. [email protected]. Text and photo-

graphs © 2015 Giorgi Tavadze.

hat is the essence of place? How

do places influence our every-

day life? What kinds of lived re-

lationships do we have with places and

how do we make them better or worse? In

the modern world of globalization, glocal-

ization, information flows, and social net-

works, these questions are of utmost im-

portance but often neglected. Placeless-

ness—the weakening of the identity of

places—threatens the very notion of place

itself (Relph 1976).

In this sense, it is important to analyze

the gathering nature of place, for it shows

that “place is central to human life because,

just by being what it is, it gathers worlds

spatially and environmentally, marking out

centers of human action, meaning, and in-

tention that, in turn, contribute to the mak-

ing of place” (Seamon 2015, p. 41).

Here, I discuss two examples illustrat-

ing the gathering nature of place. First, I

consider place as a gathering symbol, a

concept developed by psychoanalyst and

sociologist Alfred Lorenzer (1968) in his

reflections on the meaning of urban sym-

bols. Second, I discuss the gathering nature

of place in light of the practical need of in-

dividuals and a place-making process.

In his essay on urban development, Lo-

renzer (ibid.) notes that humans need emo-

tional relationships with the built environ-

ment [1]. This affective contact with archi-

tectural forms is established through the

whole city, its streets, squares, houses, gar-

dens, churches, monuments, railway sta-

tions, and so on. The structure of the city

influences its inhabitants. For example, the

experience of a city’s silhouette—the

whole image of that city—then becomes an

inner moment of city

dwellers, who identify

themselves with it.

Their feelings are per-

meated by the city and

its architecture.

Lorenzer rejects ar-

chitectural functional-

ism, which, he claims,

considers the city as a

“machine for dwell-

ing.” Functionalism in

architecture and urban

development cannot

satisfy the emotional

and communicative

needs of city dwellers.

In its essence, urban

communication is mediated through sym-

bols, and the city is a place of symbolic in-

teraction.

Individuals establish emotional relation-

ships with the built environment through

symbols via which city dwellers unite in a

shared, symbolic “ideal I” that is sustained

through interpersonal communication. In

this sense, an urban symbol can be under-

stood as a gathering symbol in that it draws

together individuals and is formed, rein-

forced, and reinterpreted simultaneously

through interpersonal awareness.

Cathedral as Gathering In 1906–1907, through the initiative of

prominent Georgian public figure Niko Ni-

koladze (1843–1928), Poti Cathedral was

built in the Georgian port city of Poti, lo-

cated on the Black Sea’s eastern coast.

This cathedral was intended as an imitation

of Hagia Sophia, the great Byzantine

church in Istanbul, Turkey. In 1933, during

the era of Soviet occupation, Poti Cathe-

dral was converted into a theatre. In 2005,

the cathedral was restored and returned to

the Georgian Orthodox Church.

The location of the Cathedral is unique:

The city’s main streets connect to the cen-

tral square where the Cathedral is located.

The restoration of the Cathedral was rife

with difficulties. Along with the clergy

(guided by His Eminence Metropolitan

Grigol of Poti and Khobi), many Poti in-

habitants participated in the restoration,

and the Cathedral quickly became one of

the most powerful new symbols of post-

Soviet Poti and an important tourist desti-

nation.

For many of the city’s residents, the Ca-

thedral is not only a place for prayer but

has become an integral part of their collec-

tive identity. Because of its architectural

style and its history and location, the

church represents Poti’s best traditions:

positive change, mutual assistance, open-

ness (Poti as a Black Sea seaport and “gate-

way to Europe”), and multiculturalism (a

distinctive, Byzantine architectural style

significantly different from a more tradi-

tional Georgian style). In this sense, Poti

Cathedral is a gathering symbol and an au-

thentic place (Relph 1976) that serves as a

topos of collective memory.

W

Place as Gathering Symbol

7

Place as Practical Need In his “Building, Dwelling, Thinking,”

Heidegger (1971) describes the gathering

nature of places and the importance of

building. His example is a bridge gathering

the riverbanks: “The banks emerge as

banks only as the bridge crosses the

stream” (p. 152). The bridge gathers places

and humans in that it connects them with

each other: “The bridge lets the stream run

its course and at the same time grants their

way to mortals so that they may come and

go from shore to shore” (ibid.).

Moreover, the bridge gathers earth, sky,

gods, and mortals—what Heidegger calls

“the fourfold” (das Geviert). As Malpas

(2006) explains, “It is only through the

gathering of the fourfold in the thing that

nature comes to salience as nature, just as

it is only in the gathering of the fourfold in

the thing that the human comes to salience

also” (p. 234).

How does gathering happen practically

via place? One possibility is place ballet,

which Seamon (1980) defines as “a fusion

of many time-space routines and body bal-

lets in terms of place” (p. 159). The con-

cept of “place ballet” is especially helpful

in understanding how places gather via

everyday lifeworld situations. If research-

ers aim to “delve” deeply into a place, they

should participate in place ballet, an expe-

rience that enables them to bring to light

specific places where different bodily rou-

tines intersect and contribute to that place’s

lived context. Moreover, place ballet offers

clues as to the inner rhythm—the “pulsa-

tion” of the place.

A Sphere of Care In summer, 2012, I was conducting partic-

ipant observation in Khevsureti, a moun-

tainous region in northern Georgia, near

the border with the Russian Federation [2].

I was staying with grass cutters in the vil-

lage of Shatili, and my aim was to observe

their interactions with places during their

daily routines. The grass cutters worked hard. They be-

gan their work at dawn and worked until

dusk. Like their ancestors, they did not use

any modern technology and mowed exclu-

sively with a scythe. Because there is a lack

of flat land around Shatili (and, in fact,

throughout Khevsureti) grass cutters mow

on steep slopes. After the seasonal mowing

finished, the “guleba” begins in which lo-

cals, using rope, pull small haystacks from

fields to stables, either manually or with

the help of horses. These smaller piles are

gathered into larger hay-

stacks.

One day, the grass cutters

suddenly went to the nearby

place of Tsukvisdziri to help

a neighbor (who had returned

from the lowland and begun

house building) to construct

a temporary bridge across the

Ardotistskali River. This

river is very swift and dan-

gerous and has claimed many

lives.

Before the bridge con-

struction began, the men

used a van to pull the neces-

sary logs to the bridge-build-

ing site. The next step involved construct-

ing the “ear of the bridge” (khidis kuri), the

term for the two bridge abutments, of

which one was a log placed horizontally on

top and tied with wire to two parallel logs

beneath. The second abutment was a log

placed on and attached with wire to two

large boulders. To strengthen and stabilize

the bridge, large stones were then piled on

the abutments. Once the abutments were in place, men

on one riverbank secured a rope to a long

log and threw the rope across the river to

men on the opposite side. As the log was

pushed into the river, these men began to

pull the rope and position the log across the

river. This effort was the most dynamic,

tension-filled action I saw during the expe-

dition. When the first log was properly posi-

tioned across the river, a second log was

placed with much less effort. The rope was

8

tied to this second log and, again, the rope

was thrown to the men on the opposite

bank. But unlike the first log, which the

men pushed into the river, the second was

pulled along the first log and then placed

parallel to it. Once these two long logs

crossing the river were in place, the men

piled more large rocks on the two abut-

ments and then nailed short laths perpen-

dicularly across the two crossing logs.

The temporary bridge was now finished,

and the men returned to their fields where

the grass-cutting place ballet resumed [3].

This bridge-building event, which at first

to me seemed out of the ordinary in terms

of daily routine, helped me understand an-

other important part of these grass cutters’

everyday life: a sphere of mutual responsi-

bility and care.

Locals told me that in the mountains it is

practically impossible to live without mu-

tual assistance. This is especially evident in

winter, when Upper Khevsureti is largely

severed from the rest of Georgia. The ac-

tions and movements of these men in-

volved in mutual assistance are in no way

deviations from time-space routines or

place ballet. Rather, they are an extension

of these regular, taken-for-granted events

and an inseparable part of a broader place

ballet.

From Relph’s phenomenological per-

spective, these activities reinforce existen-

tial insideness—a taken-for-granted sense

of attachment to the place and an unself-

conscious individual and collective local

identity (Relph, 1976, p. 55).

A Constant Care for Places In Building, Dwelling, Thinking,

Heidegger (1971), claims that “only if we

are capable of dwelling, only then can we

build.” He goes on to say that “The funda-

mental character of dwelling is… sparing

and preserving” (p. 149). If humans do not

care for places, then there is a good chance

that placelessness and the “fragility of

places” (Malpas 1999, p. 234) will mani-

fest starkly. Therefore, only with constant

care for places, can we dwell and grasp

better our essence.

The care for places offers a new dimen-

sion of thinking, understanding, and mu-

tual aid. Nowadays, when global processes

directly impinge on local places, these re-

flections are as necessary as never before.

Notes 1. I am indebted to Prof. Helmut Schnei-

der’s public lecture, “Symbolics of the

Utopian City,” Feb. 24, 2011, Central Li-

brary, Poti.

2. This research was sponsored by the In-

stitute of Philosophy and Social Sciences,

Grigol Robakidze University, Tbilisi,

Georgia; see Tavadze 2013.

3. The bridge was “temporary” because,

when the Ardotistskali River floods (which

happened in June, 2013), bridges are regu-

larly destroyed. The men built a temporary

bridge so that the house building could pro-

ceed quickly before winter snows began.

References Heidegger, M. 1971. Building Dwelling

Thinking. In Poetry, Language,

Thought. NY: Harper, pp. 145–61.

Lorenzer, A. 1968. Städtebau: Funktional-

ismus und Sozialmontage? In H. Berndt,

A. Lorenzer, & K. Horn, eds., Archi-

tektur als Ideologie. Frankfurt: Suhr-

kamp Verlag, pp. 51–104.

Malpas, J. 1999. Place and Experience.

Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press.

Malpas, J. 2006. Heidegger’s Topology.

Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Relph, E. 1976. Place and Placelessness.

London: Pion.

Seamon, D. 1980. Body-Subject, Time-

Space Routines, and Place Ballets. In A.

Buttimer & D. Seamon, eds., The Hu-

man Experience of Space and Place.

NY: St. Martin’s Press, pp. 148–65.

Seamon, D., 2015. Lived Emplacement

and Locality of Being. In S. Aitken & G.

Valentine, eds., Approaches to Human

Geography, London: Sage, pp. 35–48.

Tavadze, G. 2013. Shatili from the Per-

spective of Philosophical Geography.

Tbilisi: Publishing House “Nekeri.”

Images: p. 6, Aerial view of Poti Cathe-

dral, Poti, Georgia; p. 7, gathering hay

and making haystacks; p. 7, preparing a

bridge abutment; p. 8, crossing the river

with the first spanning log; a completed

bridge (photographs by Giorgi Tavadze).

9

The Phenomenology of Visualizing Atmosphere Malte Wagenfeld

Wagenfeld is a Senior Lecturer in Industrial Design at RMIT University in Melbourne, Australia, and a practicing designer and

researcher whose explorative designs (furniture, objects and appliances) and texts have been internationally exhibited and published.

In his current projects, he has turned toward the investigation of sensuous and perceptual encounter, including the realms of sound,

light, air, breezes, smells, humidity, and temperature. He draws on this research for his designs of experiential environments and

interior atmospheres. This essay is based partly on his doctoral dissertation, Aesthetics of Air (Melbourne: School of Architecture

and Design, RMIT University, 2013). [email protected]. Text and images © 2015 Malte Wagenfeld. See pp. 14–15 for

image captions.

The inventor Nikola Tesla “could project

before his eyes a picture complete in every

detail, of every part of the machine”… more

vivid than any blueprint…. Further, he

claimed to be able to test his devices in his

mind’s eye, “by having them run for

weeks—after which time he would examine

them thoroughly for signs of wear” (Gar-

dener 1993, pp. 187–88).

or Nicola Tesla to perform such con-

ceptual gymnastics, visualizing a

complex unbuilt machine and letting

it “run” in his mind over a period of time and

then analyzing the mechanical outcome, he

would first have had to develop an innate

working knowledge of the materials from

which this imaginary machine was made.

As designers, we experiment with materi-

als to explore their properties and qualities

and to consider how best to work with, ma-

nipulate, and determine what we can make.

Through iterative physical exploration, we

develop a tacit material knowledge gradu-

ally internalized as a feeling—a “Gefühl.”

Developing this “feeling” allows a means to

visualize the material in new design con-

texts. The more we work with a material, the

more attuned we are to this feeling, which in

turn amplifies our ability to inventively ex-

plore and manipulate that material in a con-

ceptual realm.

The tantalizing question arises: How does

a designer use visualization to conceptualize

an intangible atmospheric medium such as

air? Explore it, alter it, adjust it, feel it, smell

it, walk through it, languish in it? How do

we conjure a vivid inner imagery to formu-

late conceptual models that capture the di-

mensional complexity and temporal capri-

ciousness of atmosphere? Lucy Irigaray

(1999) even asks, “Is air thinkable?”

An Aesthetics of Air Now in its seventh year, the project, Aes-

thetics of Air, is an ongoing exploration into

atmospheric phenomena, perceptual en-

counters, and our social, cultural, philosoph-

ical and physiological relationship with air.

The aim is to reimagine interior atmos-

pheres and to devise a method for designing

with air. The perceptual phenomena carried

by air, breezes, temperature, moisture,

sounds, scents, density, weight and so forth,

as a combined effect, is what I refer to here

as “atmosphere.” As philosopher Gernot

Böhme (1998, p. 114) writes:

aesthetics of atmosphere shifts attention

from the “what” something represents, to

the “how” something is present. In this way,

sensory perception as opposed to judgment

is rehabilitated in aesthetics, and the term

“aesthetic” is restored to its original mean-

ing, namely the theory of perception.

Attention to “how something is present”

raises a design dilemma, namely, how is an

atmosphere—emergent, intangible, and in-

visible—to be mastered, manipulated, and

transformed? How can air be explored and

modulated as a perceptual design medium?

Typical meteorological instruments such as

anemometers, barometers, and thermome-

ters are useful for collecting quantifiable

data but largely unhelpful as tools to analyze

the perceptual qualities of an aesthetic at-

mosphere or to inform its design.

How, for example, would one quantify

the experience of Walt Whitman’s “mysti-

cal moist night-air” (Whitman 1855), a

phrase that speaks to a qualitative phenom-

enological encounter, the perceptual quali-

ties of which lie beyond the narrow dataset

yielded by instruments? The perceptual

qualities of atmosphere are in constant flux

and relational and subjective. An investiga-

tion into the aesthetic qualities of atmos-

phere calls for a different approach involv-

ing our senses as the perceptual instrument.

In this paper, I explore how visualization,

both literally—by making something visi-

ble—and conceptually—by visualizing

something in the “mind’s eye”—is a critical

design tool, even when what one visualizes

is invisible and ephemeral. I discuss several

experiments and installations that mark the

heart of Aesthetics of Air. Much of the in-

vestigation explored the qualitative, percep-

tual “materiality” of air, just as a designer

would explore any other material. Because

air is essentially immaterial and invisible,

however, various methods and techniques

were employed, including laser visualiza-

tion to “reveal” air as a visible presence in a

space—as an observable material.

Making Air Visible Currently, the dominant design paradigm

fashions interior spaces as hermetically

sealed containers into which a tightly con-

trolled, standardized, conditioned air is

pumped with the explicit aim of making the

interior air—atmosphere—imperceptible. I

aimed to abandon this conventional para-

digm and, once again, to make air “visible

to feeling” (Mallinson, 2004, p. 163). Ar-

chitect Juhani Pallasmaa (2005, p. 19) ar-

gues that the “dominance of the eye and the

suppression of the other senses tends to push

us into detachment, isolation, and exterior-

ity.” He explains that “modernist design…

has housed the intellect and the eye, but has

left the body and the other senses, as well as

memories, imagination and dreams, home-

less” (ibid.)

F

10

But by making air visible literally and by

not exploring its “feeling” directly, am I not

perpetuating this privileging of the “visi-

ble”? Here, I examine this apparent internal

contradiction and consider the critical dif-

ference between visualization and designing

for visual effect.

The visualizations of air I developed are

tools for “interrogating” the multifarious at-

mosphere to understand and master this me-

dium as a design material. As I demonstrate,

air is best conceptualized as a dynamic

amalgam rather than as a material thing.

Psychologist Rudolf Arnheim’s theory of

visual thinking holds that perception is an

innate part of cognition. He makes the im-

portant distinction between “passive recep-

tion and active perceiving” (Arnheim 1969,

p. 14). He contends that “truly productive

thinking in whatever area of cognition takes

place in the realm of images” (ibid., p. v). In

other words, we think visually.

Developmental psychologist Howard

Gardener (1993) extends the concept of vis-

ual thinking into the spatial and temporal di-

mensions—what he frames as “spatial intel-

ligence.” Importantly, he explains how

blind people possess spatial intelligence,

and he avoids linking this faculty “to any

particular sensory modality” (ibid., p. 174).

Here, the effect on the perceived visual im-

age, when it is conceptualized in the process

of thinking, is critical because, at that mo-

ment, it shifts from percept to concept. Arn-

heim explains that the visual image is trans-

formed in this process, since it is not an ac-

tual reproduction of a “real thing” but a de-

liberate abstraction “as a product of the

mind rather than a deposit of the physical

object” (Arnheim 1969, p. 108).

Cultural critic Carla Mazzio (2009, p.

160) observes that, because air exists at the

“limits of perception,” it cannot be handled

and assessed like a solid object or even like

a fluid. It escapes “episte-

mological capture” (ibid.,

p. 159). How then does

one investigate, let alone

design with, something

that, in its material quali-

ties, is by all accounts a

“nothing”? To conceive

air as a “nothing” does

not presuppose that it is

“nothing” but simply in-

dicates that air is not a

“thing”: a no-thing (ibid., p. 156). One can-

not approach the design of a no-thing in the

same manner as one would design a thing,

since it does not have the same material

properties. It cannot be held, carved or

sawed. In short, it escapes the very logic of

manipulation and production.

But air does act upon us, and we act upon

it. We inhale and exhale. Air can even blow

us over. As I demonstrate, we can even

shape air, but not with the tools we might

use to shape a thing.

Air Phenomena Outdoors My investigation of atmospheric phenom-

ena began with an observational study of air

in a natural outdoor setting. My aim was to

identify the phenomena that make the per-

ception of air on a pleasant day so sensuous.

I conducted my first observations in and

around the Melbourne Botanical Gardens.

With their rolling hills and sweeping lawns

set around a central lake, the gardens make

an ideal setting for favorable breezes.

I began by studying the subtle movement

of leaves on a tree, observing how leaves on

one branch flutter while those on an adja-

cent branch remain still. The relationship

among the moving leaves constantly

changes at random intervals—sometimes all

move, then all is still, reveal-

ing the air’s movementas

both temporal and spatial. Its

fluctuations—a casual

breeze gathering strength

and then dying away—are an

experience with which we

are all familiar, but I was sur-

prised to observe that the ef-

fect could occur within a de-

fined spatial zone. As was to

become much clearer as I

continued my observations,

it is this complex, transient spatiality of at-

mosphere that is so critical to its character.

How might our senses encounter this

shifting movement? Imagine two people sit-

ting together in a park. Even though in close

proximity, they experience a different mi-

croclimate. One might feel a cooling breeze,

while the other might be getting warmer be-

fore the cooling breeze arrives. We may as-

sume that the breeze I feel is felt by the per-

son next to me. In this understanding, how-

ever, the wind is conceived incorrectly as a

singular spatial force moving across the

landscape. Instead, my observations demon-

strated that the wind is a highly localized

phenomenon, the boundary of which can be

delimited by our bodies.

In other observations, I noted that the sur-

face of a small lake mottled with ripples—

capillary waves—revealed leisurely breezes

as a two-dimensional cross-section (images,

above left). These waves often formed small

pools of atmospheric activity with tightly

defined boundaries. Study of video footage

of the lake surface revealed, to my surprise,

that on occasion, a region of atmospheric ac-

tivity might appear to be fixed in place or

progress very slowly—much slower than

the air velocity required to generate it. These

observations again pointed to the highly

spatial nature of air movement.

The infamous billows of steam released

from New York City’s manholes, cracks,

and buildings produce a beguiling ambience

(image, below). These vaporous forms also

proved ideal for observing atmospheric phe-

nomena. Of particular interest were Manhat-

tan sites where multiple jets of steam ap-

peared within close proximity, an event I

video-recorded over an extended period.

Careful examination of these films revealed

that, on one hand, adjacent jets of steam

11

would sometimes move in unison. On the

other hand, these jets would sometimes take

an altogether different course, revealing

how randomized air movement in an open

setting is.

Most remarkable was a vigorous jet of

steam suddenly released from a building’s

top floor. These steam clouds revealed how

air moves in an enthralling dance-like mo-

tion: poetic and elegant, elaborate and com-

plex, emergent and fluid. Of particular fas-

cination was the re-emergence, now and

again, of recognizable, sometimes almost

identical, pattern formations, the most dra-

matic of which was a distinctive vortex in

which the air appears to turn a somersault

(images, p. 1). Such aperiodic patterns,

characteristic of self-organizing systems,

became a key focus throughout this research

and confirmed that we are observing a tur-

bulent system. As science writer Philip Ball

(2009, p. 17) explains,

In everyday parlance, “turbulent” is often a

synonym for the disorganized, the chaotic,

the unpredictable—and while fluid turbu-

lence does display these characteristics to a

greater or lesser degree, we can see… that

there is a kernel of orderliness in this chaos,

most especially in the sense that turbulent

flow often retains the organized motions

that spawn vortices.

I concluded from these initial investiga-

tions that “natural air” behaves much differ-

ently from the steady-state “laminar” model

of air movement that engineers strive to

achieve within hermetically sealed, air-con-

ditioned spaces. Conse-

quently, my research led me

to hypothesize that what

makes natural air so pleas-

urable, given the right con-

ditions, is its dynamic and

transient (not static), aperiodic

(not regular), and turbulent (not

laminar) behavior.

Exploring Air and Fog To gain more control and nuance

over the exploration of atmos-

pheric phenomena and to move

my investigation inside demanded

more specialized methods of visu-

alization. The striking effect of light rays be-

ing “materialized” by luminescent particles

of dust or vapor floating in the air was the

inspiration grounding the next technique.

Vapor from a fogger emitted into wafer-thin

sheets of light produced by specially built

scanning lasers proved a spectacular, highly

versatile method. The intent was to map a

spatial topography of air currents within an

interior space. I painstakingly planned my

first investigation as a systematic dissection

of the atmosphere, taking slices through the

x- and y-axes to observe the varying veloc-

ity and direction of “well-behaved” air cur-

rents. However, it soon became apparent

how flawed this reductive visual model was.

The first visualization revealed an ex-

traordinary complexity and virtual incom-

prehensibility (image, upper left). The at-

mosphere appeared as a highly complex set

of paisley-like patterns of gently spinning

vortices that had the delicacy of fine lace.

The air seemed to be moving in no particular

direction but, rather, in all directions at

once. Swirling bodies of air were seen mov-

ing north and south, east and west, up and

down and crossways, sometimes slicing past

each other like people in a crowd, some-

times spiraling into one another and then

moving off together on a new trajectory.

Now and again, a larger nebula of air, the

size of an apple, would slowly rotate on its

axis, moving leisurely through space at

about one centimeter per second. These fine

patterns of air were clearly part of a larger

complex system created by a multiplicity of

currents, and interactions. My previous vis-

ual model of atmosphere was now recast as

air exceedingly transient and randomized.

The vortex became the recurring visual sig-

nature of atmosphere. The fractal scaling of

this patterning became remarkably evident,

from global weather patterns right down to

minute atmospheric interactions.

Most surprising was how human bodies

affected the air (images, above). We ob-

served how a person approaching a vertical

plane of laser-illuminated atmosphere

would cause the air to part, creating a door-

like opening. Once he or she had passed

through the plane, a slightly larger, bodily

imprint was momentarily visible before the

air, then spiraling closed and “shutting.”

Most captivating was the seemingly ordi-

nary action of breathing (images below). A

breath gently exhaled into the laser light was

observed to travel some six meters, tracing

12

a flowing cascade of spiraling eddies led by

the distinctive dipolar head of a vortex. Just

by inhaling and exhaling breath, we are an

intimate part of the atmospheric engine.

I was surprised to discover that some peo-

ple expressed concern when learning about

this intimacy. Even though people may

know that they share air with others, it is not

until they actually “see” this sharing that it

becomes intensely intimate and challenging.

This quality of air as a shared, intimate

medium was further explored via a series of

public performances and installations held

at Melbourne’s Craft Victoria Gallery in

2008. In one of these events, three perform-

ers formed a circle several meters in diame-

ter. Facing each other, they took turns inhal-

ing the visualized atmosphere and then ex-

haling it toward the next performer who

would then inhale and exhale it to the next,

as if they were passing a ball in a children’s

game.

Another performance, staged during a

dinner, explored the effect of a large crowd

on the interior atmosphere. One experiment

involved visualizing air during cooking (im-

ages, above). Guests could not only smell

the food being prepared and served but also

observe the vapors carrying the smell—a

synaesthetic experience, heightened once

the food was tasted.

Air and Water Vapor The next investigatory phase made use of

piezoelectric transducers immersed in a bath

of water. These transducers use ceramic

discs that expand slightly when an electric

current is applied; they contract when the

current is removed. They do this at ultra-

sonic frequencies with the result that the

rapid oscillation causes the water above the

surface of the disk to literally vibrate into

extremely fine water droplets, creating a

dense cold fog that can track air currents

with extraordinary sensitivity.

A series of investigations was conducted

in several different interiors—for example,

the transducers were placed near a third-

floor apartment’s slightly open bay window.

I was surprised to observe the propensity of

air to flow out the window, challenging my

intuitive assumption that the predominant

air flow would be from the outside

in. The evidence, however, showed

a much more dynamic relationship.

Later a much more elaborate ver-

sion of the device was built for a

2011 Melbourne exhibition, “At-

mospheric Sensitivity.” Mounted at

waist height, this installation in-

cluded a long, narrow, low-rimmed

shelf on which there “floated” a

shallow sea of fine, dense fog mys-

teriously appearing though a thin

slit in the wall (images, right). The

aim was to allow visitors to explore

the extraordinary sensitivity and

complexity of atmospheric phe-

nomena via blowing, waving, walk-

ing past and so on.

People appeared mesmerized by

the dynamics of the fog and would

study it at length. But something

else, entirely unexpected, also hap-

pened. The form the fog took—its

appearance and behavior—was

highly variable (images, next page).

Sometimes, the fog was almost en-

tirely motionless, forming a mirror-

still lake on the surface of the shelf.

At other times, its form resembled a

rolling cloud front or the rhythmic

waves of beach surf. Perplexingly,

the fog at times was observed to roll

off the edge of the shelf and then

rise upward, seemingly climbing

the installation walls. This mercu-

rial behavior suggested that an internal

weather system was at play within the gal-

lery. Although wavelike formations and

other patterns were frequently observed, the

vortex was evidenced in virtually any inter-

action. It appears as though laminar flow in

air is highly unusual. Blowing, for example,

produces not laminar flow but spinning

locks of vortices moving in a general linear

direction.

Vortex Rings: Shaping Air Another room in this same exhibition

housed “Atmospheric Structure,” an instal-

lation that explored the vortex as a phenom-

ena. A digitally-controlled pneumatic de-

vice was designed and precisely tuned to

shoot identical self-propelled vortex rings

(toroidal vortices) into the gallery space at

13

one-minute intervals. A vortex ring’s struc-

ture is particularly robust because of the sta-

bilizing, internal spinning motion propelling

it through the air (images, right).

These vortex rings are compelling atmos-

pheric phenomena and visibly elucidate

how a parcel of air can form a self-contained

structure moving independently from its

surrounding medium comprising the same

air. This fact relates to the distinction men-

tioned earlier between a no-thing (a vortex

ring is not a thing) and a nothing (but the

ring is manifestly something). If we extrap-

olate this visualization by envisioning the

invisible atmosphere around the vortex

ring, our conception of atmosphere changes

from its being a formless soup to a complex

assemblage of semi-autonomous phenom-

ena sometimes acting independently; some-

times interacting, converging and commin-

gling; and sometimes behaving in unison.

Photographic documentation capturing

the vortex from the side the instant it exited

the device confirmed that there was formed

a virtually identical vortex pattern every

time. While great lengths were taken to con-

trol the atmosphere within the gallery, the

vortex’s trajectory and how far it travelled

(at what speed, how long it remained before

dissipating, and it dimensions) varied every

time.

For example, one vortex would rise to the

left, while the next would sink to the right.

Sometimes, a brilliantly formed vortex

would lethargically linger, expanding into

an elegantly thin ring. At other times,

smaller, squatter vortices would propel

themselves energetically forward for con-

siderable distances. These manifestations

again demonstrated that a vortex did not

move through empty space but constantly

collided and interacted with other atmos-

pheric phenomena affecting its particular

form and movement.

Night Window Partly inspired by artist Edward Hopper’s

1928 painting of the same name, “Night

Window” was an installation integrating

several sensory modalities (image, next

page). The critical site was a window, un-

derstood as a performative, poetic architec-

tural element. Windows can be interpreted

as the eyes, nose and ears of a building—its

sensory apertures. Opening and closing

windows and drawing drapes are simple ac-

tions whereby occupants modulate atmos-

pheric and perceptual relations between in-

side and outside by letting the outside in or

the inside out.

The project site was Melbourne’s Bun-

doora Homestead Art Centre, once an ele-

gant horse farm and now a gallery with

white walls, automated lighting, inoperable

windows, and climate-controlled interior.

The installation was a re-imagining of the

perceptual qualities that the main house’s

interior atmosphere might have held as the

Smith-family residence from 1899–1920.

Visitors were invited to imagine Lady

Smith opening her dressing room window:

It has been a warm day, and cooler air has

just arrived accompanied by a gentle rain-

storm. The air causes the sheer curtains to

billow in the evening breeze that perfumes

the room with the smell of cut hay and wet

grass. Beyond the wide protecting balcony,

14

one hears the sound of rain, chirping birds,

and now and again a neighing horse.

Inside the gallery, a window and wall sec-

tion had been dislodged from the building’s

interior. No longer hermetically sealed, the

window once again invites in breezes and

fragrant night air, but the window has not

only become dislodged in space but also in

time: The air carries once familiar, but now

long vanished scents and sounds from the

grounds of the old homestead.

For the installation, the large recon-

structed window incorporated several hid-

den devices, including an array of com-

puter-controlled fans emulating the aperi-

odic frequencies of natural breezes. The in-

stallation also incorporated a soundtrack

composed by sound designer Livia Ruzic

and an evaporative cooler directing cool,

moist air over a box of dried grass upward

toward the fans, which then blew the

scented air through the window and into the

gallery space.

The installation was sited in a corner of

the gallery slightly away from the wall, gen-

erating the illusion that the window had

been physically dislodged from the rest of

the room. Lighting within the room was sub-

dued, with a small spotlight accentuating the

rhythmic billowing of the curtains. Translu-

cent, dark blue film applied to the room’s

three other windows made it appear that

night had fallen.

In entering the installation, one felt an un-

canny sense of dislocation—a shift, ever so

slightly, in time and space. While still aware

this was a gallery space, the experiencer en-

countered a momentary disorientation be-

cause of the darkened room; the cool, moist

fragrant air; subdued, nocturnal sounds; and

the glimpse of night through the windows

framed by gently billowing curtains.

Several visitors mentioned the tranquil

qualities of the installation, a comment that

indicates how even a limited number of per-

ceptual stimuli can provoke a strong psy-

chosomatic response. Although the breezes

could be seen more than felt, the experien-

tial impact was palpable, highlighting how

our senses work together in such a way that,

if information from one is slightly amiss or

missing, the others compensate for the in-

complete data.

Exploring Atmospheric Forces Being immersed in atmosphere is an experi-

ential encounter like no other. The experi-

ence incorporates an aesthetic medium car-

rying perceptual effect in constant flux:

breezes, sometimes dry, sometimes moist

and humid; dappled radiant warmth inter-

laced with pockets of cool air laden with

scents and peripheral sounds. One experi-

ences an interplay of phenomena that are

transient and dynamic; emergent and aperi-

odic. The result is shifting atmospheric en-

vironments that are delicate, ambient, and

poetic.

As designers, we have no real way of no-

tating atmosphere; we have few means to

describe its experienced qualities. The visu-

alizations I undertook explored air as some-

thing “observable” and therefore tangible

for the mind to grasp. This mode of presence

enabled a deeper, internalized knowledge of

atmosphere, which in turn evoked vivid in-

ner imagery with which to pre-visualize air

in space and time as atmospheric environ-

ments and experiences.

The notion that air was made “visible” is

perhaps misleading; air as such remains out

of reach. What was visualized were the va-

pors and particles evidencing air—its ener-

gies and forces at play, circulating in and

through the air. This way of understanding

is much more compelling and, for designers,

much more valuable. The motivation behind

the careful study and documentation was not

to reveal the “look” of atmosphere but to ex-

plore atmospheric forces—how they be-

have, how they move directionally and tem-

porally, what qualities they possess, and

what perceptual information they carry.

Initially, I aimed to explore air as a “ma-

terial” but, through my work, I now under-

stand that air is better envisioned as a com-

plex assemblage of interacting energies and

forces that together generate a multitude of

ever-changing atmospheric phenomena. I

was not observing images, but the visual

signifiers of atmosphere. By visualizing the

energies and forces present in air (and not

air itself), we reveal the topography of an

otherwise invisible experience. I was able to

identify and catalogue several key phenom-

ena that, together, help constitute our expe-

rience of atmosphere (images, next p.).

While neither definitive or complete, this

“catalogue of atmospheric phenomena’

works as a perceptual model and a concep-

tual toolbox with which to envision atmos-

phere as a design typology.

References Arnheim, R., 1969. Visual Thinking. Berkley:

Univ. of California Press.

Ball, P., 2009. Flow. Oxford: Oxford Univ.

Press.

Böhme, G., 1998. Atmosphere as an Aesthetic

Concept. Daidalos, 68: 112-115

Gardener, H., 1993. Frames of Mind. London:

Fontana Press.

Irigaray, L., 1999. The Forgetting of Air. Lon-

don: Athlone Press.

Mallinson, H., 2004. Metaphors of Experience:

The Voice of Air. The Philosophical Forum,

35 (2): 161 – 177.

Mazzio, C., 2009. The History of Air: Hamlet

and the Trouble with Instruments. South Cen-

tral Review, 26 (1 & 2): 153 – 196.

Pallasmaa, J., 2005. The Eyes of the Skin. Lon-

don: Wiley.

Whitman, W., 1855. When I Heard the Learn’d

Astronomer. Walt Whitman’s Leavs of Grass:

The First (1855) Edition. London: Seeker &

Warburg, 1960.

Image captions p. 1: Two strikingly similar vortex formations,

appearing about one-and-one-half minutes apart.

New York City, 2008. All images by M. Wagen-

feld unless identified otherwise.

p. 10, upper left: A sequence of video stills of a

lake’s surface illustrating how air currents

(marked by the small water ripples) fluctuate

over a period of three-and-one-half minutes.

Melbourne, 2006.

15

p. 10, lower right: New York City steam

clouds produce a beguiling ambience and illus-

trate an ideal medium for observing atmos-

pheric phenomena. New York City, 2008.

p. 11, upper left: Vapor from a fogger emitted

into wafer-thin sheets of light from specially

built scanning lasers; the result is atmospheric

phenomena of extraordinary complexity. M.

Wagenfeld, & J. Parmington, Melbourne, 2007

p. 11, upper right: A laser-illuminated atmos-

phere revealing the dramatic effect that bodily

motion has on the surrounding air; note the spi-

raling air currents. “Visualising Air Phase 1,”

Craft Victoria Gallery, Melbourne, 2008.

p. 11, lower right: A breath gently exhaled into

the laser-light observed travelling over six me-

ters and tracing a flowing cascade of spiraling

eddies led by the distinctive dipolar head of a

vortex. M. Wagenfeld, J. Parmington, P. Wat-

kins, R. Ayyar and I. de Gruchy, Melbourne,

2007.

p. 12, upper left: Images documenting a perfor-

mance exploring the synesthetic experience of

seeing and smelling cooking vapors and later

tasting the food. “Visualising Air Phase 2,”

Craft Victoria Gallery, Melbourne, 2008.

Malte Wagenfeld & P. Watkins.

p. 12, right: A woman observing phenomena

revealed via fine fog. “Atmospheric Sensitiv-

ity,” Aesthetics of Air, RMIT Gallery, Mel-

bourne, 2011.

p. 12, lower right: Visitors interacting with fog

by blowing, waving, walking past and so forth.

“Atmospheric Sensitivity,” Aesthetics of Air,

RMIT Gallery, Melbourne, 2011.

p. 13, left: Highly dynamic forms of fog, some-

times almost entirely motionless; other times,

resembling a rolling cloudfront or surf waves.

“Atmospheric Sensitivity,” Aesthetics of Air,

RMIT Gallery, Melbourne, 2011.

p. 13, right: Vortex rings’ unique forms and

trajectories. “Atmospheric Structure,” Aesthet-

ics of Air, RMIT Gallery, Melbourne, 2011.

p. 14, upper left: The installation, “Night Win-

dow.” Bundoora Homestead Art Centre, 2011.

This page: Key atmospheric phenomena com-

prising a designer’s “toolkit.”

A Catalogue of Atmospheric Phenomena

Environmental & Architectural

Phenomenology c/o Prof. David Seamon

Architecture Department

211 Seaton Hall

Kansas State University

Manhattan, KS 66506-2901 USA

Environmental & Architectural

Phenomenology

Published three times a year, EAP is a forum and clearing house

for research and design that incorporate a qualitative approach to

environmental and architectural experience.

One key concern of EAP is design, education, and policy sup-

porting and enhancing natural and built environments that are

beautiful, alive, and humane. Realizing that a clear conceptual

stance is integral to informed research and design, the editors

emphasize phenomenological approaches but also cover related

styles of qualitative research. EAP welcomes essays, letters,

reviews, conference information, and so forth.

Exemplary Themes The nature of environmental and architectural experience;

Sense of place, including place identity and place

attachment;

Architectural and landscape meaning;

The environmental, architectural, spatial, and material

dimensions of lifeworlds;

Changing conceptions of space, place, and nature;

Home, dwelling, journey, and mobility;

Environmental encounter and its relation to environmental

responsibility and action;

Environmental design as place making;

The role of everyday things—furnishings, tools, clothing,

interior design, landscape features, and so forth—in

supporting people’s sense of environmental wellbeing;

Sacred space, landscape, and architecture;

The practice of a lived environmental ethic.

Editor Dr. David Seamon,

Architecture Department

211 Seaton Hall

Kansas State University

Manhattan, KS 66506-2901 USA

Tel: 785-532-5953; [email protected]

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